I see what she saw as she stood alone,
She cried as the warm wind twisted her hair,
Waiting, by her lover's moon aligned stone,
These stones, as precious in this summer's air.
These stones, as warm as the breast of a deer,
Clear my mind of all impetuous thought.
They kiss my hands and my conscience they steer,
As their touch forgives all battles fought.
As their touch entranced her, one llamas night,
When she hugged them for their infinite truth,
She could not for-tell her tribe's mortal spite
For her most beloved, lily-lipped youth.
For her most beloved, she stood waiting,
Her eyes becoming the ivy flowers,
That wrapped these rocks with their corded lacing,
She wished those bells to chime out their powers.
She wished those bells would bless entranced others
Who make a journey to this hallowed ring,
We add our warmth to these stones for lovers;
Are cherished by the dead and new hopes bring.
